#mint-adjacent-vibes

[m0e-ru]

hey its that one guy again. i think if i deserved to see this u do too. big fan of how sad igor looks

oohh my gordness ....... hey customers check this out

[acidhydra101]

my ears are currently occupied by Stereolab - Dots and Loops but I must advocate for MINT JAMS DAY anyways.

do you know what day it is today?

that’s right, it’s the 4th annual MINT JAMS DAY and you have to listen to mint jams at least once today. we’re all counting on you.

[jungkoode]

THE 25TH HOUR | O8

“𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐒”

"Your coffee is exactly the way you like it, though you do not remember having a preference over it, nor knowing Agent Min's. Just like you don't remember the coffee shop, or the barista. Or how, apparently, certain phrases trigger certain protocols."

next | index

— chapter details

word count: 5,4k

content: coffee details, sugar slander, yoongi hiding the softness (i see u mf), him leaving in the worst moment possible (oh no can you believe that), a barista thinking he's john wick and yoongi showing him he's indeed not (why am i laughing at this i'm so funny), idk fleeing, superpowers, golden tendrils/tentacles/traces and they're sensitive bc i'm a horny slut who loves drama, yoongi explaining his abilities and basically both of them being somewhat stranded.

— author’s note

OKAY OKAY OKAY—wow. phew.

Lemme just say I had to speed write this chapter like I was being chased by CHRONOS itself because I was NOT prepared for y’all to hit the chapter goals in like… two days. TWO. DAYS. Both on Wattpad and Tumblr. Kinda insane honestly but also like… slay Kiki Nation, we are so back.

This was a severe underestimation on my part and it 100% reflects in the goal numbers I set this round. Don’t look at me like that. This is entirely your doing.

NOW. As for this chapter: WOAH. I was so itchy to finally get into some action-packed scenes!!! I know it’s not a full-blown Marvel throwdown or anything but ughhhh I love the way it’s parried with uncovering new truths, a little sprinkling of Yoongi’s abilities, and just the faintest nod at Noma’s. We’re getting there, babies. We’re cooking with unstable temporal gas.

Sci-fi + superpowers = my drug. Inject it directly into my brainstem. This fic is honestly just me going full feral in my favorite genre and I love that you’re all just vibing with the chaos.

And hey—just a heads up—those golden traces / tendrils / tentacles / whatever-the-fuck you wanna call them? Yeah. They’re important. Not just plot-wise.

Oh no. We’re going smut-wards. You remember that little detail about them being sensitive? YEAH. Narrative seed. Planted. You’re welcome, you horny-ass goblins. I love your deranged asses because they are as feral as mine and I respect that.

Anyway. I’m gonna make that man suffer through overstimulation and there’s NOTHING you can do to stop me. Whoops. Who said that??

Godspeed and love. <3

— read on

ao3

wattpad

You’ve never registered an aversion to coffee. 

Analysis confirms your preference: black, minimal dilution via milk, zero sweeteners. Sugar introduces an artificial variable, a taste profile your palate rejects as inefficient data. 

The cup sits between your hands now, untouched. Heat radiates outwards, a minor thermal signature registering in your system. You stare into the dark liquid, a reflective surface showing nothing but distorted ceiling lights. Your mind searches for a focal point, a problem to solve, but the what remains elusive, fragmented.

Beside you, Agent Min occupies the adjacent stool. His presence is a known variable, yet the proximity registers as… different. Static cling without the static. 

His coffee mirrors yours in its lack of sugar, but deviates in the absence of milk. Plain black. Stark. Your internal database flags this information, yet registers no 'new entry' timestamp. It’s data already logged, sourced from… where? 

The query returns a null set. 

Error. File not found.

“Good?”

The query comes from him. Low frequency, minimal inflection. You lift your gaze, meeting his across the short distance. Dark eyes, partially obscured by mint smudges of hair that have fallen across his forehead.

Analysis identifies a lack of direct eye contact, his focus aimed somewhere near your left temple.

A defensive posture? Or observational?

You tilt your head, a minor adjustment of 15 degrees. Querying his query.

The corner of his mouth flickers. A micro-expression, barely perceptible, suppressed almost instantly. He’s withholding an upward curve, a smile response. 

Why?

“I mean you,” he clarifies, voice maintaining its low, even tone. “Not the coffee.”

You redirect your focus to the cup. The brown surface ripples slightly as you shift your weight. You deliberately defocus your vision, blurring the edges of the ceramic rim.

Unconscious action.

Flagged for later analysis.

“Yeah, just…” The sentence terminates prematurely. Insufficient data to complete the thought. Or perhaps, excess data causing system overload.

He mirrors your earlier gesture, head tilting towards you. An eyebrow arches. A non-verbal prompt for continuation. Standard interrogation technique.

“I knew Robin.” The words emerge, low volume, clinical detachment coating the raw data point.

He nods once. A slow, measured movement. No verbal response. He allows the silence to expand, granting you control over the data flow. 

“And now he’s gone.” You complete the statement. 

Flat delivery. Fact confirmed.

His gaze drops to his own cup. He lifts it, takes a sip. The motion is fluid, economical. He places the cup back down without a sound. Four seconds pass. Five. 

“I got him erased.” The statement escapes as a whisper, approximately 17 decibels. 

A conclusion reached through flawed logic, yet carrying an unexpected physical weight. Something constricts within your chest cavity, pressure.

His response is immediate. No processing delay.

“No.”

The word is rough, textured like sandpaper against concrete. A rasp that cuts through the low hum.

“CHRONOS got him erased.” He pauses, intake of breath audible. “That’s what they do.”

"I mentioned the temporal anomaly to him." You mutter, the unidentified strain expanding behind your sternum. "Probability suggests that's why they targeted him."

"They were already watching him," he says, voice calibrated to exactly 40 decibels. "Your conversation may have accelerated their timeline, but he was already flagged."

You process this new data point, running probability calculations against known variables.

"How can you be certain?" 

His eyes meet yours—pupil dilation increasing by 7.3% in the 0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Because I've been tracking their erasure patterns for longer than you've been alive."

The statement contains multiple logical inconsistencies. 

Agent Min does not look significantly older than you.

Yet your temporal analysis centers don't flag it as a falsehood.

Your glance moves back to the cup. 

"Robin kept succulents on his desk," you say, the information surfacing without clear relevance markers. "Three of them. Arranged by height. He watered them every Tuesday at 14:27."

Yoongi's face produces some series of micro-adjustments in 17 distinct facial muscles that combine to form something your pattern recognition identifies as... compassion? 

The classification feels incorrect, but alternatives rank lower in probability.

"You're processing grief," he observes, voice modulating to a softer cadence. "It's normal."

The diagnosis feels foreign. Incorrect. Your emotional processing centers operate at 98.7% efficiency. You would recognize grief.

Wouldn't you?

"I barely knew him," you counter. "We shared 17 lunch periods over 4.7 months. Total interaction time: 23.8 hours. Insufficient for meaningful emotional attachment."

Yoongi takes another sip of his coffee. The liquid level decreases by exactly 12 milliliters.

"Grief isn't always logical," he says after 2.3 seconds of silence. "Sometimes it's just... human."

The cadence in his last word triggers some unexpected response in you.

"I'm not experiencing grief," you insist. "I'm experiencing statistical anomalies in my cognitive processing."

His eyes meet yours again—0.9 seconds of contact that somehow feels heavier than its temporal parameters suggest.

"Call it whatever you need to. The result is the same."

Your fingers adjust on the cup again—pressure decreasing by 0.2 kilograms as your muscles unconsciously respond to his voice.

"What is the statistical probability that my conversation with Robin directly caused his erasure?" 

Yoongi's expression darkens—brow lowering by 0.4 centimeters, jaw tensing with 31% more force.

"You're looking for a percentage to quantify your guilt," he observes, voice edged. "It doesn't work that way."

"Everything works that way," you argue. "Reality is quantifiable. Causality is measurable. Effect follows cause at precisely calculable intervals."

"Not in the 25th hour. Not with CHRONOS."

Silence spreads as his thumb traces the rim of his cup-three precise rotations counterclockwise. Then, he speaks again, needing to make a point.

"Consistency matters now more than ever. CHRONOS is auditing behavioral patterns with 62% increased scrutiny since last quarter."  

You frown. "Source?"  

"Erratic temporal enforcement." His finger taps the ceramic once—sharp, percussive. "Fourteen percent spike in memory wipes. Thirty-three percent decrease in Outlier survival rates post-detection."  

The numbers land like ice chips down your spine. "Correlation doesn't imply causation."  

His eyes narrow by 0.3 millimeters. "You think they're redecorating parks for aesthetic purposes?"  

You ignore the rhetorical jab. "Recommended behavioral adjustments?"  

"Normalcy. No deviations from established routines. No unscheduled interactions. No..." 

His gaze flicks to your hands. 

“...idle curiosity."  

You follow his line of sight.

Your fingers have been tracing infinity symbols in condensation on the table.

A subconscious pattern emerging at 2.7-second intervals.  

"Noted." 

You wipe the moisture away with a napkin, friction coefficient registering 0.4 higher than standard paper stock.  

"They're cross-referencing biometrics with temporal signatures now. Elevated heart rate during routine scans triggers immediate audits."  

Your pulse spikes by 11.2 bpm at the implication. "You're suggesting emotional suppression."  

"I'm suggesting survival. Your body can't afford inconvenient truths right now."  

The phrase 'inconvenient truths' lodges in your cortex, sparking 37 simultaneous neural queries. 

All return access-denied.  

"Define 'normalcy' parameters."  

"Wake at 06:00. Work until 18:30. Consume 427 calories at designated intervals. Report all temporal irregularities except the ones we cause."  

"Compliance seems..." You search for the optimal term. "...counterintuitive to resistance efforts."  

“You think rebellion looks like fireworks and manifesto drops?" Leather creaks as he leans closer, mint and ozone sharpening the air between you. "Real resistance happens in the microseconds they don't monitor."  

Your retinas capture the exact moment his pupils dilate—3.2% expansion correlating with proximity increase. 

"Such as?"  

"The 25th hour. The only time they can't see us."  

Your watch beeps softly—temporal variance: 0.89%.  

He pulls back instantly, posture reset to neutral. "Stick to the numbers. The patterns. The lies they've programmed you to live."  

The coffee turns bitter on your tongue, pH shifting by 0.2. 

"And you?"  

“I'll be the ghost in their machine."  

Ghost.

The word settles in your chest, impossibly making it warmer.

Then, the lights flicker—a couple times—as CHRONOS agents pass outside the window. Their shadows stretch across the floor in elongated distortions, limbs warped by the glass's refractive index.  

You count their footsteps.  

He counts your breaths.  

A soft exhale from his lips—a controlled release of 1.2 liters of air over 2.4 seconds.

Rising from the stool, he stretches his neck 37 degrees to the left, then 42 degrees right. The vertebrae produce three distinct clicks at frequencies between 73 and 81 hertz.

His cup sits empty. Yours remains 73% full.

That same suppressed curve at the corner of his mouth does a reappearance.

Your pattern recognition flags it as the third occurrence of this specific micro-expression in the past 18 minutes.

“I need to use the restroom.” His statement is direct, efficient. “Wait here.”

You nod once—a 15-degree downward tilt followed by an equivalent upward correction. Optimal response to a simple directive.

He moves 1.7 meters toward the back of the establishment before pivoting 170 degrees. His eyebrows lift by 0.4 centimeters, creating three distinct lines across his forehead.

“You’ll be okay?”

The question registers as anomalous. Its premise suggests a concern disproportionate to the circumstances. Your brow furrows, creating a 0.3-centimeter depression between your eyebrows.

He shakes his head, dismissing the moment, and disappears behind the door marked RESTROOM—white letters, slightly chipped, 7.2 degrees off center.

You pivot on the stool, body angled toward the counter.

The coffee sits there, cooling. You sip. It’s gone tepid. Your thumb traces the rim, mapping the circumference for the third time.

The bartender approaches. Male, mid-thirties, dark hair, clean apron. Smile at 65% intensity.

“Not a fan of the coffee?” he asks, voice pitched for casual friendliness. “You’ve been staring at it longer than drinking.”

You blink twice. Processing. “No, it’s fine.”

He leans in, elbows on the counter. “You sure? Most people ask for sugar. Or something sweet.”

You shake your head. “I don’t like sweeteners. They distort the baseline flavor profile.”

He laughs, easy. “That’s… specific.” 

His gaze lingers, searching for something. 

“You come here often? I don’t recognize you.”

You hesitate, brain skipping. “Not that I remember.”

The words fall out, unfiltered. He goes still. Smile vanishes. His hand drops below the counter—movement too smooth.

Cold metal presses to your temple. Soft click.

You catalog the sensation. 

Barrel diameter: 9mm. 

Temperature: room. 

Pressure: firm, not shaking.

His voice drops, all pretense gone. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

You comply. 

Data input: threat detected.  

Output: unknown.

Your retinal sensors register gold first—erratic sparks at 11 o'clock, 43 centimeters from your focal point. 

The barista's weapon hand undergoes rapid cellular decay: skin desiccating at 3.7 millimeters per second, muscle tissue liquefying with 92% efficiency. His scream measures 114 decibels—pain response authentic, but temporal signature reveals 0.8-second delay.  

Agent Min's grip materializes around your wrist before the decay reaches radial artery. His fingers burn at 39.1°C, golden threads weaving through his leather gloves. The world blurs—not from speed, but temporal interference. 

Your internal chronometer confirms: local time dilation of 47%.  

"Move." The command vibrates at 87 Hz, bypassing auditory processing to embed directly in your motor cortex.  

Your legs comply before conscious thought engages. Adrenaline spikes—17.3% above baseline. The cafe exits warp as you pass, doorframes appearing to bend at 12-degree angles—an optical illusion caused by the temporal distortion field surrounding you.  

CHRONOS agents materialize in peripheral vision, their movements unnaturally segmented—3.1 frames per second versus standard 24. Their comms chatter fractures into your awareness:  

"—emporal breach Sector 4-Alpha—"  

"—arget exhibits Reality Shifter signatures—"  

"—containment protocol Theta-7 authorized—"  

Yoongi pivots 170 degrees, dragging you into an alley where air molecules vibrate at 0.7x normal frequency. His free hand glows faintly gold, pressed against the brick wall. Mortar ages backward then forward in precise spiral patterns—2.3 revolutions per second, creating a passageway exactly 0.9 meters wide.  

"Don't breathe," he warns as you pass through particulate matter suspended in his temporal field. 

Your lungs register 14% oxygen decrease.

Insufficient for hypoxia.

Sufficient for discomfort.  

The alley deposits you onto a street where Agent Min(?) has slowed time by 23%. Pedestrians move at imperceptible rates, their coffee cups appearing frozen at 37-degree angles. His temporal manipulation leaves gold afterimages—3.2-second persistence in your peripheral vision.  

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps erratically:  

TEMPORAL VARIANCE: 4.89%  

ANOMALY DETECTED  

His grip tightens—42.7 kilograms of pressure now, necessary to anchor you against increasing temporal distortion. Without his stabilizing touch, you assume your untrained body would suffer severe temporal drag. 

"Focus on my voice," he commands, words layered with harmonic frequencies that stabilize your inner ear fluid against the disorienting effects of his temporal field.  

CHRONOS drones breach the time dilation field behind you, their propulsion systems screeching at 17 kHz—the exact resonant frequency that makes your temples protest. 

They're designed to track and pursue through temporal distortions. You know this from your training, what they taught you. Or at least, what they wanted you to be taught.

But Yoongi never looks back; not even once.

Nature’s lumbar support leaves much to be desired.

The wall at your back is jagged, scraping through your shirt, stone biting into skin. Yoongi’s breath saws out next to you, sharp, furious. He rounds on you, eyes wild, voice pitched higher than baseline.

"What the fuck did you do?"

The question isn't a question—it’s an accusation wrapped in 87 decibels of controlled fury. You straighten 2.3 centimeters, ignoring how the rock tears at your jacket.

“I answered his query within established social parameters."  

His laugh is all sharp edges. "Parameters? You told a CHRONOS informant you didn't remember him!"  

"Statistical probability suggested—"  

"Probability?" He steps into your space, mint and ozone overpowering the cave's damp musk. "They've activated civilian reporting protocols! That bartender was required to log every customer interaction!"  

Your pulse spikes-+18bpm. "Unforeseen variable. You didn't brief me on—"

"I literally just said don't deviate from normalcy!" The wall cracks behind him, hairline fractures spreading at 3mm/second. "Normal people don't have memory gaps about coffee shops!"  

You catalog the wall damage—microcrystalline structure failure inconsistent with human strength.

Fascinating.

New data point: Agent Min's capabilities exceed known parameters.  

"My response was logically sound," you counter. "Approximately 72% of humans experience—"  

"Logically suicidal." Gold sparks dance in his irises now. "They train those informants to flag exactly that phrase."

The revelation triggers 23 simultaneous neural queries.

"Why would 'not that I remember' trigger—"

"Because Outliers say it when their memories glitch!" He's closer now, 47cm instead of 72. "Basic fucking tradecraft, Noma."

You flinch at the nickname. "You expect me to intuit unpublished surveillance tactics?"  

"I expect you to listen when I say CHRONOS is hunting us." The gold intensifies, threads weaving through his clenched fists. "That man wasn't armed until you turned him into a threat."

"Correlation fallacy." Your voice drops to 19dB. "You lack evidence that—"

The cave wall explodes.  

Not literally—just Yoongi's fist connecting with stone 3.2cm from your head. Dust cascades downward as he withdraws his hand, skin unmarred.  

"Evidence?" His breath ghosts across your lips, warmer than human biology allows. "You think decay patterns manifest spontaneously?"  

Realization crystallizes.

The bartender's rotting hand. The gold threads. The temporal distortion.  

Your eyes narrow. "You altered his cellular decay rate."  

"To save your statistically suicidal ass."  

"Without consent."  

"Without options.” 

The standoff lasts 4.7 seconds.

"You're an anomaly," he growls. "Stop acting like one."  

"Variables require data." You match his glare. "Which you hoard like a fucking dragon."  

His hands rake through mint hair, leaving it standing at precisely 47-degree angles.

"Because I have no other fucking choice!" The words explode from him, raw and jagged. "Every piece of information I give you is another potential trigger. Another way for CHRONOS to find you. To erase you. Again."

That word. ‘Again’. He keeps saying it, like it’s something he can’t lodge out of his throat.

Yet, for his incredible powers, he seems unable to prevent what he fears most.

What ‘again’ means to him.

Your eyes narrow, recalculating.

"So your ability..." You pause, watching his muscles tense. "Time manipulation?"

His eyes flick to yours, then away. A non-answer that answers everything.

"You aged his hand by 70 years, at minimum." Your voice steadies as you shift to analysis mode. "Accelerated cellular decay, targeted temporal field. Fascinating."

"83 actually." The correction is automatic. Petulant. He slides down the wall beside you, knees cracking at 73 and 81 hertz. "Time Anchor. That's the technical classification."

You catalog the term, cross-referencing against known temporal phenomena.

No matches found.

"I can't create or destroy time." His voice drops, rougher now. "I can only... redistribute it. Accelerate decay in one place, slow it in another."

Your fingers twitch with the urge to document, to measure. "Conservation of temporal energy."

"Something like that." He flexes his right hand, and you notice the faint gold shimmer beneath his skin—network of lines like circuitry, pulsing at 0.7-second intervals. "Every action has a cost."

"The gold." You gesture toward his hand. "Temporal bleed?"

His eyebrow lifts 0.3 centimeters. "For someone who claims to know nothing, you make impressive leaps."

"Pattern recognition is my primary function." You shift, angling your body 12 degrees toward his. "What's the cost?"

His laugh lacks humor, registering at 42% below standard mirth indicators.

"Depends on what I'm doing. Age someone's hand? Minor headache, maybe some joint pain. Stop time completely?" He taps his temple. "Migraines that would kill a normal person."

You process this, calculating energy transfer ratios.

"And the 25th hour?"

"That's different." His voice drops another 3 decibels. "That's not me. That's... a system error. Something CHRONOS never accounted for."

"That you exploit."

"That we exploit." He corrects, eyes meeting yours. "Some of us, anyway."

"How many like you exist?"

"Time Anchors?" He shrugs, the movement exact despite its casual appearance. "Only me, that I know of.”

The admission feels sad.

Terribly lonely.

"And me?"

The question emerges before your logic centers can evaluate its prudence; and his eyebrows twitch, eyes staring directly onto the ground.

"You're something else entirely."

"Define 'something else,'" you request, shifting your position against the wall to better observe him. 

The movement causes a minor increase in discomfort—rock surface irregularities creating pressure points along your vertebrae.

But they do not register as important in the face of acquiring new information.

Agent Min finally exhales—which suggests internal debate about information disclosure parameters.

"I can show you," he says finally, voice dropping. "But you need to understand that what I'm about to do is extremely detectable. If there are any CHRONOS agents within 400 meters, they'll register it."

You calculate risk factors, weighing variables against known CHRONOS response protocols.

"Current location provides approximately 87% concealment from standard monitoring," you observe. "Probability of detection: 13.2%."

His mouth quirks—almost-smile that never fully materializes.

"Always with the numbers," he mutters, but it doesn't register as annoyance—rather something warmer.

He extends his right hand, palm up, and focuses his attention on it with an intensity that alters his breathing pattern by 0.4 seconds per cycle.

At first, nothing happens.

Then—

Gold.

Liquid light emerges from his fingertips, tendrils of energy that move with fluidity. They spiral outward in clockwise rotations, creating phenomenons that defy any standard classification parameters.

Your pupils dilate by approximately 28%, heart rate increasing by 17 beats per minute.

"Temporal energy," he explains, voice steady despite the obvious energy expenditure. "Direct manifestation of my ability."

The golden traces move like extensions of himself, responding to minute shifts in his focus. They emit no measurable heat signature yet appear fluid, almost liquid in their movement patterns.

"Fascinating," you breathe, leaning closer to observe better. "How do they work? What's their composition? Can they interact with physical matter or are they purely energetic manifestations?"

Your questions tumble out in rapid succession, each one triggering three more in your mind. The analytical part of you wants to measure, catalog, understand—but something else, something less quantifiable, simply wants to touch.

He watches you cautiously, measuring your reaction.

"They're extensions of temporal force," he explains. "I can manipulate objects through their timeline states—age them forward or backward, freeze them in their current temporal position."

The golden traces curl and twist above his palm, creating complex patterns that seem to follow mathematical principles.

"Can I—" You hesitate, unusual break in your typically decisive speech pattern. "Would contact damage them? Or me?"

"No damage," he says carefully. "But they're... sensitive."

The word choice seems odd, triggering your curiosity further.

"Sensitive how?" you press, eyes tracking the golden movements.

He sighs—perhaps denoting exhaustion.

"They're direct extensions of my temporal energy. I feel what they feel."

You process this information.

"Like nerve endings," you suggest.

"Yeah… Something like that."

Decision made, you extend your hand toward the nearest tendril, moving slowly to allow him time to withdraw if needed. 

He doesn't.

Your fingertip makes contact with the golden energy.

The sensation is... unexpected.

The trace feels solid yet fluid simultaneously, warm without heat, substantial without mass. But what registers most prominently is Yoongi's immediate reaction—sharp intake of breath, pupils dilating by approximately 32%, micro-tremor in his left hand.

You pull back instantly, recalculating.

"Did that hurt?" you ask, cataloging his physiological responses.

"No." His voice drops by 2.7 hertz. "Not hurt."

No further clarification. 

Your own pulse increases by another 8 beats per minute in response.

Oh.

You reach out again, this time with intent, and trace your finger along the golden tendril. It responds to your touch, curling around your fingertip like it's greeting you.

Yoongi's breathing pattern alters—inhalation extending by 0.7 seconds, exhalation shortening by 0.4.

"They recognize you," he says, voice rougher than before.

"That's impossible," you counter automatically. "We've never interacted like this before."

His eyes meet yours, holding for 2.3 seconds—longer than his usual 0.8-second maximum.

"They recognize you," he repeats, simply.

The golden trace wrapped around your finger pulses slightly, the rhythm matching your heartbeat with 97.3% synchronicity. 

"What else can they do?" you ask, scientific curiosity temporarily overriding everything else.

He flexes his fingers slightly, and the traces extend further, creating a complex network of golden energy between you.

"They can interact with physical objects," he demonstrates, directing a tendril toward a small rock. 

The stone ages rapidly, crumbling to dust in 3.2 seconds. Another rock reverts to its geological past—crystallizing into a perfect quartz formation.

"Temporal manipulation at a distance," you observe, mind going through all possible applications, limitations, variables.

"Yes."

You watch as the traces move with increasing confidence around you, never touching without your initiation, but clearly... aware of your presence.

"And these are unique to Time Anchors?" you ask, testing another hypothesis.

"Each type of Outlier has their own manifestation," he says carefully. "Mine happens to be temporal, and in tendrils of different sizes."

You detect deliberate vagueness, information being withheld.

"What's mine?"

The traces flicker briefly, responding to some change in his emotional state.

"That's something you'll have to discover yourself," he says finally.

You frown, dissatisfied with the non-answer.

"More cryptic responses. Inefficient communication strategy."

His mouth quirks again.

"Some things can't be told, Noma. They have to be experienced."

You reach out again, this time allowing your entire hand to pass through the network of golden energy. The traces respond immediately, wrapping around your fingers, sliding between them.

Yoongi's breath catches, the sound barely audible at 17 decibels.

"These are... remarkably sensitive," you observe.

"Yes." The word emerges strained, tightly controlled.

A hypothesis forms. You test it by deliberately trailing your fingers through the traces with a bit more pressure.

His reaction is immediate—pupils dilating to 7.1 millimeters, pulse visible at his throat increasing to approximately 92 beats per minute, a muscle in his jaw tensing with 47% more force.

"Interesting," you murmur, filing away this reaction for future analysis.

"We should stop," he says, voice rougher than before. "Extended manifestation increases detection risk."

Logical. Rational. 

Yet you find yourself strangely reluctant to end the experiment.

"One more question," you negotiate, still not withdrawing your hand from the golden network. "Why do they move in clockwise patterns specifically?"

His eyes meet yours again, unreadable.

"Because that's how time moves," he says simply. "Forward. Clockwise."

You correlate with your observations.

"And if something moved counterclockwise?" you ask, the question emerging from some intuitive part of your mind rather than your analytical centers.

The traces flicker again, responding to something in his emotional state.

"That would be something else entirely," he says, echoing his earlier statement.

Before you can press further, he withdraws, the golden traces retracting into his skin. The absence leaves the air feeling strangely empty, lacking some vital element you hadn't noticed until it was gone.

Your fingertips tingle with residual sensation—a ghastly feeling you don’t know how to categorize but for some reason find yourself missing.

"We need to move," he says, voice returning to its normal cadence. "We've stayed in one place too long."

He is right. 

You don’t know why you still want to touch those golden traces.

You rise instead, calculating the most efficient exit route while your mind continues processing this new data point: Agent Min’s golden traces recognize you, despite having no logical reason to do so.

Another anomaly to add to your growing collection.

He presses his right wrist with two fingers, applying precisely 2.1 kilograms of pressure to the outer edge of his Chrono-Sync Watch. The device responds with a soft sound—around 17 decibels, so barely perceptible even in the cave's acoustic environment.

A holographic display materializes 4.7 centimeters above the watch face, projecting a three-dimensional map of Sector 4 with pulsing red markers scattered across its surface.

You lean forward, immediately registering the discrepancy: standard Chrono-Sync Watch models lack holographic projection capabilities.

"What is that?"

Yoongi doesn't look up, his focus entirely on the floating map as he rotates it 37 degrees with a precise finger movement.

"Modified," he says simply, the explanation as efficient as always. "I told you."

You study the hologram, cataloging design parameters and technical specifications with automatic precision.

"Quantum-projection module integration into a Chrono-Sync interface would require bypassing at least seven encryption protocols," you observe, mind already mapping the engineering challenges. "The power requirements alone would necessitate a modified lithium cell with 347% increased capacity. Not to mention the spatial compression algorithms needed to maintain holographic integrity without..."

Your analysis trails off as your eyes meet his over the floating display. The corner of his mouth twitches once more.

"You helped create this," he says quietly, fingers still moving through the projection.

The statement registers, but fails to connect with any accessible memory database.

"I did not." Your contradiction emerges automatically, precisely calibrated to express certainty.

He doesn't argue. Doesn't press. Simply continues manipulating the map with those agile, gloved fingers, eyes occasionally flicking to your face as if contemplating your reaction.

Silence expands between you for exactly 4.3 seconds before your curiosity overrides caution.

"Where are we going?" you ask, redirecting the conversation away from memory discrepancies that trigger uncomfortable neural responses.

"I'm mapping our closest access point," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

His index finger traces a route through the holographic streets, calculating distances with the same analytical precision you recognize in yourself.

"We need to reach one of the travel spots within the next 37 minutes. Our temporal signature trail is too fresh after that... incident."

"Travel spots?"

You catalog the unfamiliar terminology, cross-referencing against known CHRONOS lexicon.

No matches found.

Yoongi's fingers pause at exactly 23 degrees northeast of your current position. His throat works—a slight contraction suggesting hesitation.

"I..." 

His voice hovers over the simple noun. He swallows once, recalibrating.

"Travel spots are access points," he continues, voice modulated in a way that suggests internal editing. "Strategic locations throughout the city that allow direct transport to the 7th Hour headquarters."

"Teleportation technology? That's theoretically impossible given current quantum limitations."

"Not teleportation. Temporal-spatial warping." His finger taps a pulsing blue marker on the map. "These portals use existing weak points in CHRONOS's reality grid."

Theoretical models. Probability factors. Energy requirements.

"The energy necessary to maintain stable reality tunnels would exceed—"

"That's why they're not tunnels," he interrupts, eyes still fixed on the map. "They're more like... doors. Open only when needed, closed immediately after use."

You lean closer, studying the blue markers. Their distribution follows no discernible pattern—a deliberate randomization algorithm to prevent predictive tracking.

"Why can't CHRONOS detect them?" you ask, probing for weaknesses.

"They can detect the activation," he answers, voice tightening slightly. "But not follow through. The portals are specially calibrated to recognize Outlier temporal signatures. Anyone else attempting to pass through would trigger an immediate collapse."

You frown, recalculating. "But my temporal signature is registered in the CHRONOS database. Wouldn't that trigger their defense systems?"

His eyes flick to yours briefly—0.7 seconds of direct contact.

"Your official signature is a fabrication. The real one..." He pauses, choosing his words with unusual care. "The real one is already authorized in our system."

Another anomaly to catalog.

Another fragment that doesn't fit your accessible memory database.

"So we access one of these points, and it transports us directly to your headquarters?" you confirm, redirecting toward practical logistics.

"Yes." He closes the holographic display with an easy gesture. "But we need to be careful. After what happened at the coffee shop, they'll be scanning for temporal disturbances with heightened sensitivity."

You tilt your head, considering.

"And why haven't you contacted your team? Surely they could provide assistance or extraction."

His eyes flicker to you. Presses his lips together. Then, answers.

"Communications are compromised in this sector," he explains. "Any encrypted transmission would register on CHRONOS monitoring systems. They'd triangulate our position within 3.7 seconds."

"Your golden traces," you observe, connecting variables. "The temporal display at the coffee shop would have triggered every sensor within 1.5 kilometers."

"Precisely why we need to move quickly." He cracks his neck again, just like he did back in the coffee shop. "Our window is closing. That display was necessary but costly from a strategic perspective."

Your mind reconstructs the coffee shop incident—the bartender's decay, the golden traces, the immediate pursuit.

"You risked substantial exposure to extract me," you state, the realization forming fully. "Statistically, that decision carried a 78.3% probability of compromising your entire operation."

He doesn’t explain. Doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t try to correct you. Just lets silence stretch for three seconds.

"Some variables outweigh probability," he says finally.

"I still don't understand why you can't simply use your temporal abilities to transport us directly. If you can manipulate time—"

"I manipulate time, not space," he sighs. "I can slow it, accelerate it, even stop it briefly. But I can't move through it. That's..."

He hesitates again, that same weighted pause.

"That's a different ability entirely."

You catalog this limitation, updating your mental model of his capabilities.

"And these portals combine both temporal and spatial manipulation," you deduce, connecting data points.

"Yes." The confirmation is clipped, efficient. "They were designed specifically to compensate for the limitations of individual Outlier abilities."

"Designed by who?"

His eyes meet yours again—1.4 seconds this time, 75% longer than his usual pattern.

"By us," he says simply.

The pronoun registers with unexpected weight.

Us. Collective. Collaborative.

You and him.

Your Chrono-Sync Watch beeps softly: Temporal variance: 1.07%.

"We need to move," he says, already turning toward the cave entrance. "The nearest travel spot is 1.7 kilometers northeast. If we maintain optimal pace while avoiding main thoroughfares, we should arrive within the acceptable window."

You follow, legs automatically adjusting to match his stride, body responding to cues your conscious mind hasn't processed.

Another anomaly. Another piece of the puzzle.

You catalog it alongside all the others, building your database of inconsistencies, contradictions, and inexplicable familiarities.

Someday, you'll find the pattern that connects them all.

But for now, you follow the ghost with golden traces, moving through a city that feels increasingly like a simulation with every step.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

goal: 250 notes

next | index

— taglist

@cannotalwaysbenight @taevanille @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @ktownshizzle @yoongiiuu93 @billy-jeans23 @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @hobis-sprite0218 @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @cristy-101 @mellyyyyyyx

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[dipplinduo]

Important and Often Overlooked Indigo Disk DLC Lore: Drayton as the Foil to Kieran

⚠️ ⚠️⚠️ NOT PROPAGANDA ⚠️⚠️⚠️

🎺✨ TIRED OF ONION BREATH-FUELED MELTDOWNS? TRY DRAYTON BEING ICONIC™: NOW IN MINT CRUSH FORMULA! ✨🎺

Do you have a rival who monologues in the mirror? Broods in forests and unnecessarily kicks people out of clubs through immature rage? Smells like one-sided, melodramatic betrayal and soured produce? Say goodbye to that and hello to minty-fresh righteousness with DRAYTON BEING ICONIC™, the #1 recommended soul-cleansing toothpaste rival! While Kieran spirals into his Onion Arc™ - layers of insecurity, bitterness, and garlic-adjacent vibes - Drayton Being Iconic™ comes in cool, collected, and mint-coded, ready to rinse the angst right out of any depraved soul.

Why hang with the onionhead who got ghosted by an Ogre and the girl, when you can have...

Cool, calm, collected: nothing phases the Drayster. You could scream, cry, or confess your sins - he’d just blink slowly and adjust his collar before going "good for you, buddy."

Battle skills so clean they sparkle: probably brushes his pokemon's teeth between turns.

Wellness as a priority: regular cafeteria dates, a full night’s sleep, and impeccable oral hygiene.

Clinically smug. Spiritually flossed. The Drayster doesn’t battle - he freshens. One cleansing quip from him and the edginess melts down to the ground. Say farewell to emotional instability and hello to sparkling character arcs. Side effects include: emotional exfoliation, being humbled on sight, and immaculate League Clubroom posture (complimentary chair and chastising tsundere girl included).

🪥 DRAYTON BEING ICONIC™: Brightly Whitening the Plotline, One Onion at a Time. 🪥

[mattielavender]

vbs headcanons ^_^???

okay suree!! tbh I dont keep them in one place and they just come in and out of my mind randomly but ill try my best to list as many as i remember (also i apologize in advance if the quantity isnt evenly spread out between characters im just ill)

- kohane is a biology/wildlife nerd in general and she loves nature documentaries. i feel like she made vbs watched one w her at least once. also she knows lots of animal fun facts

- related to this, her college major (if she does go) would be biology or veterinary

- kohane got her heart necklace from her dad as a gift

- kohane likes fantasy as a genre and especially appreciates intricate worldbuilding (i think shed like stuff like dungeon meshi and LOTR)

- oh also i feel like pokemon would tickle her fancy

- she also likes yuri (popular hc i know snnsns) and i think shed like either cute and funny ones (like cant defy the lonely girl or kase san) or deeper, grounded series with themes of becoming who you truly are in spite of societys expectations (like run away with me girl)

- toya also likes yuri. my sixth yuri sense tells me that hed like this monster wants to eat me and bloom into you, tho hed be into what kohane likes too. hed like exploring new genres and would see something valuable in every series like the curious boy he is

- an likes shounen manga and anime, especially sports ones and, of course, music ones. i feel like shed like my hero academia, haikyuu and girls band cry (for the music too). oh shed probs like stuff like hypnosis mic too just for the crack value.

- akito (un)fortunately shares an's taste in anime, tho i feel like hed be into some very specific BL too. i feel like hed like given and banana fish? i only know like the basic premises of those but the vibes match up. oh also hed never admit that out loud. hed like durarara too idk vibes

- an likes mint flavored things. chewing gum, candies, ice cream, u name it. even the spicy ones. I bet shed like using mens shampoo with menthol too (im projecting here)

- anchans already a tea drinker in canon, AND she likes growing mint, so i think shed make her own mint tea

- kohane was something adjacent to a warrior cats kid (tho she was too shy to actually run on all fours), or a furry. the vibes. the vibes are there

- if I had to choose the most chronically online vbs member it'd be kohane too. then, in order, toya, akito and anchan (shed be kinda behind on online culture but also not too behind if yk what i mean).

- akito is a hugger but thats like a friendship lvl 50 information. hed hug his pillow while sleeping

- akito is a trans guy because i said so

- an really really really likes dogs

- kohanes parents are a bit older, like in their mid 50s. also im not sure which one but i like to think that one of them used to be very shy and anxious like her in their teen years but grew up to be a chill and secure adult so they understand kohane and are patient w her

- ena finds out how akito treated kohane at first and gets really mad at him for it and comes up w some punishment (even though kohane repeatedly says its fine and that akito has been nothing but kind to her since they teamed up)

[absolutebl]

(Asking for recs bc you're the only one who gives me exactly what I want)

I don't know if what im looking for even exists, but I'm gonna try asking anyway. I'm looking for something that gives me the vibes of Beyond Evil, but outwardly queer (implied is fine too, ig), or Hannibal, The Devil Judge, High-school frenemy etc. Basically morally grey/unhinged freaks who would die/kill for each other. And I know you don't watch censored Chinese shows but I absolutely adore Word of Honor, The Untamed and Justice in the Dark. All of them involve someone who believes they cannot be redeemed being loved.

I've watched Triage and 4 minutes and I liked those too bc it's very plot heavy and the romance sorta happens as part of the plot. I do not like MAME, or anything adjacent.

Again idek if this ask is even possible. And I apologise for being all over the place. Save me, absolutebl, save me.

Hum, morality chain characters I think is what you're after. Or even murder husbands.

So have you tried SCI Mysteries AKA S.C.I (2018)?

Old guard partly Hong Kong produced censored Chinese BL. They pretend they're something else but they married. Back in the day I found it on YouTube but not sure who officially hosts it now. I would call it Beyond Evil x Trapped + police procedural.

Have you considered Addicted? Odd choice but I suspect it might work for you. Or Where Your Eyes Linger, if you're okay with high school characters.

And there is Long Time No See of course. You should watch that immediately if you haven't already.

Finally, there is Guardian (2018) to consider.

It's an odd creature with extremely chewy world building, but it is very much in the vein of the stuff you like. Not exactly those tropes though. It's so hard to describe. Be warned, you looking at 40 eps of 45 min each. (I think it still holds the crown as longest BL.) It is a BL, just very censored. Still if you want to be distracted for a very long time this might be what you're looking for.

Other's I can think of off the top of my head:

Laws of Attraction* (have you seen this? It certainly has some characters with that perfect unhinged quality to them)

Manner of Death

Lovely Writer (maybe a little)

KinnPorsche maybe?

The Eclipse

3 Will Be Free

Big Dragon

Not Me

The Heart Killers

My Stand-In

The Thai ones simply have less of an edge to them. They will go sappy and only 1/2 of the couple is morally grey but they're there if your desperate.

HIStory Obsessed

HIStory 3: Trapped

HIStory 4: Close to You has a crazy side couple with this dynamic.

Kiseki: Dear to Me (definitely the sides)

I have a sinking suspicion I'm missing something from Taiwan. These also will have less edge.

Tien Bromance from Vietnam has some of this quality to it but it's quite raw.

Some cray cray from Japan:

Happy of the End

Double Mints (if you wanna go unhinged and dark just go there?)

Same Difference AKA Docchi Mo Docchi (the office version) and then there is Beloved Enemy from China, an even more messy office version, and China's Capture Lover which is a nicer version.

Dangerous Drugs of Sex AKA Sei no Gekiyaku (the ultra kinky version)

Dominant Yakuza and Wimpy Corporate Slave AKA Ore-sama Yakuza to Hetare Shachiku: Kuni wo Koeta Jingi Naki Dekiai (it's short tho)

But those are all, ya know, Japan being all Japanish about it. Gotta like their style which is very different from the Korean and Chinese stuff you seem to like best.

Okay hopefully something works? Let me know, okay? I'm curious to see if I was right on anything.

[sincerelyamee]

Your Life As A Tokyo Jujutsu High Background Student

| Megumi x Reader | Reader's third year & Gender-neutral |

You had not known Fushiguro Megumi for very long, perhaps a few months at best, but you had already grown fond of the boy. That little sea urchin, with his aloof glare and standoffish body language, was always so irritated with the world. 

He definitely didn’t seem to like you much in the beginning… if he liked anyone at all. He had that palpable “leave me alone” vibe - spiky hair hiding his face, arms habitually crossed in an invisible barrier, one-word answers to attempts at small talk. Anyone else would have taken the hint after a few rebuffs and kept their distance. But not you. 

There was a wariness there, a carefully contained fragility that resonated with your own. You recognized that cold glare all too well, having worn it like armor yourself once upon a time, before Gojo had broken through your walls with his irritating persistence and arrogant cheerfulness.

You knew—beneath the hostile exterior, Megumi was just a boy thrown alone into the cruel world of jujutsu, trying desperately to survive. You could relate all too painfully. So you persisted. Offering your quiet presence like a comforting blanket, you'd hover at the edges of Megumi's personal bubble, reading, snacking, giving him the wide berth he clearly craved. Never demanding attention. During meal time, you would add an extra pudding cup to your tray, then silently offload it into Megumi’s as you plopped down next to him, talking lightly about Gojo’s recent antics as you ate.  In the library, you'd claim the seat beside him, the two of you reading in a comfortable silence broken only by the occasional turn of a page. Now and then you simply occupied nearby space, tapping idly at your phone screen whenever he sought out an empty corner to avoid company. 

Then one day between training sessions he fell into step beside you, wordlessly holding out an ice-cold bottle of mint chocolate milk. Your favorite. From that small olive branch on, a new ease settled into your interactions. His rejection of the pudding cups turned into acceptance turned into quietly waiting for them every day. Rolling eyes at your appearance in the library softened into furtive peeks over book spines to see if you’d come to keep him company. He held himself stiffly at first when you claimed the armchair adjacent to his in the common room, but soon began leaning into your idle chatter on curse techniques.

Most times the two of you spent together were still in silence rather than actual conversation. But the quietness somehow felt warmer now, more intimate than isolating. And every so often, when he thought you weren’t paying attention, you’d notice the flicker of a barely-there smile softening Megumi’s face at something you’d said. In those moments, you felt a fierce affection and protectiveness swell brightly in your chest...

You are a third year student at Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.

You are Gojo’s most spoiled third year. Not that he has many options, since your classmates have all been suspended.

You are Nanami’s most favorite jujutsu sorcerer thanks to your mutual distaste of the jujutsu world and burning desire for early retirement.

You are Shoko’s most beloved unofficial assistant who does all her paperwork. Don’t let Principal Yaga hear about that though.

You are the first years’ most adored senpai, because Gojo has the audacity to dump most if not all of his teaching responsibilities on you.

But most importantly, you are a background character. Sometimes, they bring you along. Sometimes, you do your own things in the background while watching them doing important, heroic things.

You are no protagonist. You are just here for the ride.

[kiestrokes]

For hard hours: skz and ateez if you wanna 👀 and the colour of lingerie you wear that makes their brain go offline 🥵

Stray Kids Fave Lingerie Colors | NSFW

🧭 Pairing: SKZ x Gender Neutral!Reader/You/Yn 🧭 Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. 🧭 Genre: hard hours, headcanon, imagine, smut adjacent. 🧭 Warnings: cursing?

🧭 Sexually Explicit Content: mentions of undergarments, duh 🤪

🗝️ Note: I of course had the most difficulty WITH my bias. But thank you again for the ask drift partner 😘 @chans-room

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Channie - maroon, maybe a sheer one piece with lace embroidery over the nipples to tease him, full garters and matching stockings. I can't get around the thought that this man has a thigh kink.

Lino - a lovely mint green, it's simple satin two-piece set because he doesn't want any distractions from you. But it needs to be tangibly appealing to this little cat, textures are important.

Changbin - idk why, but I imagine him liking a bright purple (like rave purple), almost orchid, something silky, accompanied by black fishnets.

Hyunjin - the set needs to be extravagant, lots of layers to it, removable pieces, peekaboo's, the color...hmmm. Hyun gives classic black vibes, but the designer makes up for the simplicity of the color.

Felix - an icy blue, don't murder me but I am thinking quality velvet teddy with a dramatic floor length gauzy robe that as matching blue fur trim. (on my Marth May Whovier shit again, drift partner)

Han - bright red, strappy two piece that connects to itself, and connects to a choker around the neck. Han loves the straps and gets a little flustered when he struggles to remove them (sorry @minttangerines for adding this delu on a Friday)

Seungmin - fuck it, he's getting lavender. a simple lacey bra and panty set and a matching silk robe when you both get a little shy.

Babybread - light pink, true light pink and not the trending Barbie pink. thinking a long line bra with lighter pink paneling and obvious boning. adorned with flowers.

© COPYRIGHT 2023 by kiestrokes All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations. No generative artificial intelligence (AI) was used in the writing of this work. The author expressly prohibits any entity from using this for purposes of training AI technologies to generate text, including without the limitation technologies capable of generating works in the same style or genre as this publication. The author reserves all rights to license uses of this work for generative AI training and development of machine learning language models.

[mamawasatesttube]

other timkonbart-adjacent thoughts that i entertain myself with: the specific vibe of romantic timkon + queerplatonic konbart (who simply don't label it bc they don't feel the need. kon is bart's favorite jungle gym and bart is kon's silly rabbit. what else is there to say?)

kon and bart are just at each other's houses and homes constantly. max loves to talk gardening and farm life with kon, who passes on ma's recipes and tips for his kitchen garden. bart offloads chives (and cucumbers. and zucchini. and eggplants. max for the love of god don't you dare plant that mint) onto kon, who is more than happy to bring by some offerings from the kent family farmer's market stall. bart shows up at the farm all the time just to hang out with kon when he's bored. ma loves to feed him and he loves to eat. it works out incredibly well for the both of them. bart will help himself to kon's closet and sleep in his bed even if kon himself isn't there. this tickles ma pink. at least once kon has made what he calls "the most bitchin' peach cobbler of all time", courtesy of ma's recipe, and bart takes one bite and his entire face lights up and he just launches himself across the room like "bro this is so good i am kissing you on the mouth" and then he does. he's so very aroace but physical affection is good and great and frankly, the peach cobbler is just really that bitchin.

all of which is to say: when kon finally is like soooo ma. im uh. dating one of my friends now :> she's So confused when it's not bart. like... oh, it's... it's not? oh i just thought-- no no tim is very sweet, he fixed the tractor up so well for us, of course i love him! i just, well, i thought you and bart... i've certainly never seen bart perched strangely on the rooftop at half past four in the morning, is all. but you should definitely bring tim around more! that boy is too thin we need to feed him--

[ginger-and-mint]

11 & 12, 16 & 17 for the belly ask game please!

11. Do you have any favorite words or phrases relating to the belly?

The word "stomach" itself kinda wrecks me tbh. ^^ "Swollen" is probably my favorite adjective, and "bulging" and "aching" and probably my favorite verbs hehe. And even though they're pretty basic, the phrases "so full" and "very full" can be really really good.

12. Do you like upset tummies? What kinds of scenarios are your favorites?

I would say upset tummies are an Interest-Adjacent Enjoyable Thing, but not actually kinky in and of themselves to me! Like, if a character has an upset tummy from eating too much, that adds the appeal of a kinky scenario for me. But if a character has an upset tummy for other reasons, the vibe is more hurt/comfort or whumpy. Which I still enjoy! but not in a kinky way, y'feel?

16. Are there any guilty pleasures that you don't tend to share as much?

My guiltiest pleasure is emeto as a result of eating too much. ^^' I tend not to explore it as much 'cause I'm still a bit shy about it, but uh. somebody struggling to keep a very large meal down or just feeling sick from how they've eaten is Big Fire.

17. What's something you wish you saw more of?

Is it cheating if I answer Stuffing Content In General? ^^' I feel like the scene is a lot slower than it used to be.

To answer seriously though -- I wish I could find stories with intentional feeding that isn't tied to a dom/sub dynamic. Dom/sub just isn't my thing, but it's pretty much impossible to find any feeding fics that don't frame the act through that lens or use associated tropes and dialogue. My ideal dynamic is more like a collaboration -- the Eating Character wants to eat, the Feeding Character wants to help them. That's basically why I have the Soothing Room in ginger & mint, I'm realizing!

[yourknifemyside]

"♩ ♪ ♫ ♬"

#5. MINT JAMS (Live), by CASIOPEA (1982) 🔁

This is me soft-launching city pop on this blog before the inevitable flood of it as the weather warms up. Though not really a city pop artist, their sound and association to that era in Japanese music has kinda kept Casiopea adjacent to that genre in its western rediscovery in recent years. I felt like going back and revisiting Mint Jams recently because it is an album I've somewhat neglected, despite how beloved a record it is. I always took to their 1979 self-titled debut more than Mint Jams, but I think after digging into it more, I've finally seen the light—the gloopy, gooey, mint-green flavored light.

Mint Jams is the culmination of four virtuosos at the absolute pinnacle of their career, distilled into this compilation of a couple live performances. If nothing else about this music stood out to you, the incredible play and musicianship on display absolutely should. The solos alone demonstrate so much creativity and command over each of their instruments, but the thing that impresses me the most is just how in the pocket they always are, at all times. It is so easy to forget that this is a live performance while listening, and that's about the biggest compliment I could give. This is not the work of dozens or hundreds of takes, this is all one masterful run through, performed on all instruments, together, at the same time. There's so much energy, and there's this air of looseness to each songs and the performances—and yet, every note, every beat is so unbelievably locked in and perfectly placed. I sincerely don't know how you can accomplish both, and above all else I admire Mint Jams and Casiopea in general for this magic blend of fun, freedom, and precision.

I'm not particularly the type of person to fawn over an artist or a record just because the performances are impressive, though. I can appreciate that just fine, but if they don't weaponize their talents to craft and perform interesting songs that hook me, I'm not going to enjoy it. Fortunately for me, Casiopea knows how to craft a good tune. The tried and true formula for these songs is to craft the main section—the head, if you'll allow me to be obnoxious about it—that then opens up the floor for a lot of soloing, before bringing it back to the head, and then wrapping it up all nice. As much as I do like a lot of the soloing on this project, and there is a lot of it, I truly love the main melodies most of all. Asayake, the second track, has a perfect lead melody. I have had it drilled into my head over the past two weeks, and I'd let it keep drilling me for two more months if it wanted to. I can't explain its magic with words, it simply speaks to my soul. Midnight Rendezvous and Tears of the Star are also standouts in this aspect for me.

The one thing that truly ties this entire album together for me is that unbelievable bass from Tetsuo Sakurai. What an undeniable stud of a musician. This man was put on this planet to play bass. Genuinely one of the most consistently outstanding and impressive performances I've ever heard on any instrument, on any album. His sense of melody and rhythm, whether he's impressing with perfectly crafted licks or laying the foundation for others to shine, absolutely unparalleled. The way he consistently slots in so perfectly with the vibe and elevates everyone around him at all times, astonishing. His playing is what drives pretty much all of these tunes forward, and the passion and personality that bleeds from every aspect of his performance is an irreplaceable contribution to this sound. In my mind, Tetsuro Sakurai is the lifeblood of Mint Jams. Just listen to Midnight Rendezvous and try to convince me otherwise.

While most of these songs are pretty clearly superior to their studio counterparts one way or another, I think there are two songs here that suffer a little bit, just by virtue of being a live performance. Time Limit, despite probably being Sakurai's absolute most impressive bass performance on the entire album, does lack the overall punch of the original. I really, really miss the horn section that the studio release had. Tears of the Star, though not as noticeable as on Time Limit, also does feel like it's missing a little bit of the perfect buildup that the studio recording was able to concoct. I feel really, really greedy for suggesting this, but man, I wish they were able to get another musician or two on stage at these shows, just to fill out the sound a little more. They sound remarkably full for just a quartet, and I'm sure introducing other musicians would have risked suffocating the magic that this lineup of Casiopea was able to capture, but I just wish the sound was a little bit fuller. I know that's sacrilege, I'll be retreating to the mountains to think about my actions.

There is truly so much to love about Mint Jams. There are maybe a couple songs off their self-titled record that I wish had found their way onto this tracklist, but I can thoroughly say I've been convinced on Mint Jams being even better than their great studio debut. What a great, consistent run of songs. Even the songs that don't fully outdo their original recordings sound great, and are impressive feats of musicianship if nothing else. I've seen a small contingent of people say that if they could go back in time to any moment in history, they would choose to be at the Chuo Taikan Hall, circa February 1982, in order to bare witness to these magnificent performances in the flesh. I honestly can't blame them.

8- / 10 💖 Favorite tracks: Asayake, Midnight Rendezvous, Swear Least favorites: ---

Listened on Jan 16th, 2025

[m0e-ru]

hi ive been binging your blog a lot recently. i rlly adore the sheer effort you've given to these dumbass fucking characters that otherwise get such little people even attempting to appreciate or engage with them beyond very shallow depths. as someone who only really got into the p4 games relatively recently (2022. my only remembered experience with the series beforehand was like a couple episodes of the the p4anim years ago and playing p5 in 2016/2017) and kind of being shell-shocked by how characters like marie and teddie and namatame were perceived by the overall fanbase once i started engaging with it more i really appreciate all the writing and analysis and art and other shit you do for them. even the gas station attendant, a character i overlooked initially, i've come to love because of all the time and energy you put into picking them apart like a dead frog in a science class

uh yea idfk i feel generally vindicated by seeing the way you characterize these bitches. especially marie as someone who felt like a lot of her interesting aspects were evaporated by the fandom (somewhat because of p4ga i feel but but still) and wanted to see more silly fanart of her (and shumarie/soumarie/whatecvrer the fuck that wasn't just kind of surface level romance becuz i rlly do love their dynamic w how i see bancho in my head. idiots who dont know how to properly express themselves w one repressing themselves to adopt a likable persona and the other unable to shut the fuck up much to their own detriment. im not gonna get over that fucking "marie makes everyday sunny for him" post ever i think) so uh keep on keeping on and ill continue to like your posts and something

anyway dumb stupid cringe fucking rant over. i apologize if i come off like a loser i dont use this website and idk the general tumblr etiquette. im pretty sure shit like this shouldnt even go here but . dont need to respond to this i just wanted to yell into the void cuz i appreciate this account. rest of this will just be panels of marie and teddie and bancho from some of the p4g anthologies i own that i wanted to share in the off chance that you also dont already own said anthologies n have seen them befor. these r only from the last ID antho and the dengeki one because those r the only 2 i have proper pictures of

hai i read this ages ago and i wanna get back to it by saying youre so awesome possum forever and ever dont worry about your ettiquette because getting 3 essay worthy paragraphs of you talking is basically everyone ive met in the tumblr nation

another thing i remember is that a bestie also loved your offerings esp the last one because those two look so lalala AUAHUAHA okay i should answer this ask properly now that i have the time 🏃🏃🏃🏃

can we give it up for the bingers and blog skimmers !?!?!?! you guys are such an interesting breed i remember trying to do that in 2018 i can already recall the thrill going through my blood im so honored to see people doing that and moreso coming to me to tell me about it WAHAUHAHA 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

this gas station (blog) really is catered to the niche market of all time also because the way my brain is wired to just go in the dustiest nooks and corners of a community and thrive and live there. i AM the bug you see when you lift up the rock . hai . i'll do anything for these poor poor characters being tossed around like hot potato with people who dont bother understanding thing or even try to pick them up at all. also im getting such a kick every time someone tells me i got them into appreciating the attendant or even iznmi more OR in a different way. thats why im here bros . me when i do my JOB !!!! 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

the way fandom handles shipping has always irked me because theres just SO much you can do with two characters than just make them hold hands. what if there was blood invovled, you know . /starts pacing around the room / you know im glad you know the know it's so cool you know /shaking you/ im glad i have a post that's affected you so much like i thought it was just a silly caption at the time and seeing it after 2 or 3 years is like "YEAHH i cooked this " and im glad you brought it to me hehehe

i hope this gas station brings you joy and you keep coming back for more etc etc and please know i really am happy to see you around in whatever branch you show up at 🫡🫡🫡 /explordes

[junewild]

Okay ask game! if I was a perfume what would my top notes, mid notes and base notes be? And for extra credit what would the bottle look like? 🤍🌀 So I did an absurd amount of (amateur) research to answer this. For the base note we're going to want to use Oakmoss. Oakmoss is derived from a type of lichen that grows on oak trees. It has a deep, earthy and woody aroma with some leather and moss undertones. I chose Oakmoss out of the 10 most popular base tones because I was searching for something woody, but a majority of the bases were woody-smoky, woody-sweet, woody-spicy, or not woody at all! Obviously we are angling for woody to represent that autumn complexion and to represent the PNW. The base note is the note that lingers the longest, so once the top and mid notes fade out, the scent lingers woody and earthen and natural like the woods around you.

For top notes, your choices are largely some-variation-on-citrus, mint, or basil. I discarded mints and basil immediately as being too on-the-nose with the wooden and earthy base notes. Too green. From here, it's decided on which flavor of citrus. I landed on Neroli.

Neroli is derived from the flowers of the bitter orange tree. It's sweet and floral, with delicate citrus and honey-like notes. It's considered soothing and calming! I chose this for a couple reasons. I think the honey note probably best fits you out of the multiple citrus-adjacent fragrances, since it has a touch of that deep, grounded scent to mix with the woody and earthen tones of the Oakmoss, but it's still bright and sweet for a first impression that matches your bright first impression. For middle notes, we're looking for something to tie together the woody, earthen mossy Oakmoss with citrusy, honey floral Neroli. Middle notes seem to be largely comprised of two categories: Flowers and Spice. I dismissed the flowers out of hand, most of them are extremely delicate scents I don't think fit you at all or clash with the vibe we already have going on (geraniums? lotus? nah.). Plus I have a hateboner for lavender in general because people sneak it into everything and it's HORRIBLE for your skin.

From here we have spices to select from. I think it'd be pretty easy to go with cinnamon or cloves or ginger, but those didn't feel quite right. They give me the impression of homey-ness (and pie, obviously) although I think the warm tones from spice are definitely in the right direction to tie together the honey-sweet and earthen scents already going on here. What I actually chose was Cardamom.

Cardamom is derived from cardamom seeds (shocking, I know) and it's considered slightly floral, woody, and has a hint of citrus. Perfect for tying in the woody Oakmoss and the floral-citrus Neroli! Cardamom is also sweet, spicy, and warm, which I think is the perfect extra layer to carry this fragrance. It's also considered invigorating and energizing, which I think merges well with the calming top and base scents to give depth and complexity and keeps the mix from being one-note. I also think the spice fits much better for you as a person since it's a little less run-of-the-mill than pie spices, while still being warm and spicy.

So here we have a scent that transitions from flowery, citrus-honey Neroli into flowery, citrus-woody Cardamom, to woody-green, earthen Oakmoss over the duration. Inviting and sweet, invigorating and spicy, and calming and down-to-earth overall.

(If you want to find perfumes that match this description you can go here: https://www.fragrantica.com/ingredients-search/ and input the specific ingredients. The perfumes it generates however likely include additional ingredients and more investigation would be required.) As for the bottle for this, I'd think something tall and slim, clear with a honey-gold topper, with an embossed leaf or vine along the side with the name. A more elegant version of something like this

tiffany i would be on my knees proposing rn if you hadn't already been so clear that you do not want in on my group marriage. but i just need you to know that you are my favorite person in the entire world bar none & my best friend & a genuine fucking delight to everyone who knows you & your research skills are extremely fucking sexy. i am genuinely considering having this made up into a perfume.

to specifically respond:

oakmoss is absolutely Thee correct base scent, thank you. woody-soil is EXACTLY right.

mint & basil are wonderful scents, but they aren't MY scents. i absolutely tend toward citruses. neroli is def one of my favorites, right up there w lemon.

you are 110% correct on the middle notes. i despise floral scents with an absolute passion. they aren't allowed in my house.

(ps: these are exactly the scents that max picked, pretty much word for word. so if both of you say it, then i can't imagine how anyone could disagree)

[dailyrisecoffee]

Cafe in Ogden

Ogden, Utah, may not be the first place that comes to mind when you think of standout coffee culture—but that’s part of its charm. Nestled beneath the Wasatch Range lies a vibrant caffeine scene full of locally owned gems, each with its own distinctive energy, community spirit, and flavor profile. In this blog, we take a deeper dive into some of the city’s most beloved cafés, exploring what makes each one worth a visit, from historic charm to vegan delights.

Coffee Links Tucked into the heart of downtown on Park Boulevard since 2013, Coffee Links began as a modest Cafe in Ogden and has since become a cherished local haven. Their rotating menu of seasonal drinks is creative and fun: the Grinch—white chocolate with a mint twist—is a holiday staple, while Cupid’s Kiss switches out mint for raspberry, delighting customers year-round. With warm sandwiches, quesadillas, and salads rounding out the menu, it’s a cozy spot to linger on a chilly day.

Daily Rise Coffee Founded in Layton in 2004 and expanded to Ogden in 2018, Daily Rise is professional and polished without feeling corporate. Their beans are roasted in-house, and baristas star in homemade hot chocolate made from a secret mocha blend. Whether you swing through the drive-through at Washington Boulevard or unwind in their campus-adjacent shop, you’ll leave with a smile—and probably a bottle of cold brew in hand.

Cuppa Since opening in 2017, Cuppa has carved out a reputation as the go-to inclusive café for vegans, vegetarians, and even adventurous omnivores. Known for inventive tea lattes like London Tea (lavender and vanilla with your choice of milk) and a heady Golden Milk latte spiced with turmeric, ginger, and cinnamon, Cuppa also shines with vibrant bowl meals, savory street tacos, and vegan nachos that diners rave about. The café’s commitment to timed steeping and fresh blending makes it a haven for quality-minded patrons.

Bean‑a‑Colada Housed inside Weber County Library branches since 2009, Bean‑a‑Colada offers more than just a convenient pick-me-up. With bright interiors and bookish vibes, it’s the perfect place to curl up with a latte or peppermint hot chocolate. Its underrated star is the Dirty Chai—a chai latte with a bold espresso shot—making it a favorite among students and parents alike.

Grounds for Coffee A pioneer of Ogden’s coffee renaissance, Grounds for Coffee launched on 25th Street and now has multiple locations. More than just great espresso and tea, they foster local community spirit through free Wi‑Fi, partnerships with schools and nonprofits, and street‑side seating ideal for casual people‑watching . On warm days, the outdoor seating near art‑strewn 25th Street becomes a gathering point for students, locals, and wandering travelers.

Kaffe Mercantile Often referred to simply as “The Merc,” this café and bakery offers European café vibes with locally roasted beans and house‑made croissants, cinnamon rolls, and danishes. On slower mornings, the calm, well‑lit terrace provides a serene backdrop for a latte and pastry, as staff tend to be as charming as the decor.

The Mercantile on 25th Street One of Ogden’s more recent additions, The Mercantile is much more than a café—it’s a tribute. Housed in the restored 1940 Union Bus Depot on Historic 25th Street, it was carefully revitalized while preserving its art deco heritage. The space is an urban lounge, complete with banquet seating, leather benches from the old depot, and walls that tell the story of generations of departures and reunions . Run collaboratively by Roosters Brewing Co., Kaffe Mercantile, and Beehive Cheese, it serves coffee, brunch, local cheeses, wine, beer, and artfully curated shared plates. Highlights include grilled cheese with Beehive cheese, the O‑Town avocado toast, hummus board, and Depot breakfast sandwich—all made with farm‑fresh, regional ingredients . The staff is well‑versed in gluten‑free options, and the atmosphere balances historical elegance with comfortable modernity . With live music on the patio, it’s equally perfect for a reflective morning or a communal evening outing.

Criddle’s Café If you’re craving a no‑frills, homemade breakfast in a welcoming, mom‑and‑pop environment, Criddle’s delivers . Known for hearty plates like biscuits and gravy, chicken bacon ranch sandwiches, huevos rancheros, and generous cinnamon‑studded scones, it’s the kind of place where locals dine in droves and balk at chain alternatives.

Others Worth Mentioning A few more spots deserve honorable mentions: Cure Coffee & Provisions for minimalist, creative drinks; Wasatch Roasting Company for art‑driven ambiance and boutique brews; Soul City Coffee for a convenient but friendly drive‑up experience; and Lotus Café & Shop for wholesome smoothies, juices, yoga‑adjacent calm, and clean eating options.

[zoya34]

The Mindful Side of Vaping: Exploring Mental Health and the KadoBar Experience

In today’s fast-paced world, mental health is more important than ever. While there are countless tools and techniques for managing stress, anxiety, and emotional well-being, some people turn to lifestyle rituals—like sipping tea, going for a walk, or even vaping—to create moments of calm. Among the brands making waves in the wellness-adjacent vape space is KadoBar, known for its rich flavor profiles, sleek devices, and modern innovation like the Kado Bar Vintage Edition 20000.

I’ll explore how small rituals like vaping can fit into a mindful lifestyle and how you can buy KadoBar online to elevate your moments of relaxation.

1. Mental Health and the Power of Everyday Rituals

Mental health doesn’t always depend on big lifestyle overhauls—sometimes, it's the little things that make a difference. Having a go-to activity that helps you pause, breathe, and unwind can be surprisingly therapeutic. For some, that’s vaping.

While vaping is not a medical treatment, the act of pausing to take a breath, especially with a familiar flavor or calming aroma, can help anchor you in the moment. This small habit may complement other tools for mental wellness, such as journaling or deep breathing.

2. Vaping for Stress Relief: What to Know

While nicotine is a stimulant, the ritual of vaping itself can feel relaxing for some users. Choosing your favorite Kado Bar flavor, taking a slow inhale, and enjoying the taste can help shift your focus away from anxious thoughts and into the present moment.

That’s especially true when using nicotine-free or low-nicotine versions of vapes, which are becoming increasingly popular among those looking to reduce their intake while keeping the soothing sensation of vaping.

3. Introducing the Kado Bar Vintage Edition 20000

One of the most exciting devices for Kado fans right now is the Kado Bar Vintage Edition 20000. This ultra-modern, long-lasting disposable vape offers a stunning 20,000 puffs, USB-C fast charging, and a stylish vintage-inspired design that fits comfortably in your hand.

Why it stands out:

Massive puff count = fewer interruptions

Premium mesh coil for smoother flavor

Rechargeable for max efficiency

Sleek retro style meets modern performance

It’s the perfect companion for those daily moments of mindfulness or mental resets during a busy day.

4. The Role of Flavor in Mindful Vaping

Believe it or not, flavor plays a big role in emotional comfort. Certain tastes and scents can trigger positive memories or sensations, which can have a calming effect on the brain.

That’s why the rich variety of Kado Bar flavors is such a bonus. From fruity to icy to nostalgic candy profiles, the sensory experience of vaping with Kado is truly immersive.

5. Top Kado Bar Flavors to Elevate Your Mood

If you’re looking to create a calm, satisfying vape experience, these Kado Bar flavors are worth trying:

Grape Kool Aid – Nostalgic, sweet, and comforting

Peach Mango Ice – Tropical with a cool exhale

Blue Razz Ice – Tart, tangy, and mentally refreshing

Cool Mint – Crisp, clean, and clarifying

Watermelon Bubblegum – Sweet and playful, great for a light-hearted vibe

Each flavor offers a different mood or mental effect, making it easy to find one that suits your state of mind.

6. Why People Buy KadoBar Online

When you're juggling work, school, or managing your mental health, convenience is everything. Many users choose to buy KadoBar online because:

It's fast and hassle-free

More flavor options and models are available

You can read reviews before buying

No need to visit a store if you're having an off day

Online shopping also makes it easier to try newer models, like the Vintage Edition 20000, without waiting for local stock updates.

7. How to Incorporate Vaping Into a Mindful Routine

Looking to bring more mindfulness into your day? Here are a few simple ways to use your KadoBar as part of a wellness check-in:

Step outside for a few minutes with your favorite flavor

Pair it with breathing exercises—inhale slowly, exhale intentionally

Use it as a “break cue”—step away from stress to refocus

Create a flavor ritual—pick a flavor that fits your mood each morning

It’s not about the nicotine—it’s about creating space in your day for presence and self-care.

8. Mental Health Reminder: Balance Is Key

While tools like vaping can provide temporary calm or help you reset, they’re not a replacement for professional mental health support. If you’re struggling with anxiety, depression, or overwhelming stress, don’t hesitate to reach out to a therapist or mental health provider.

KadoBar can be part of your self-care toolkit, but true mental wellness often involves a mix of healthy habits, support systems, and mindful practices.

9. Final Thoughts: KadoBar as a Flavorful Pause

In a world that rarely slows down, KadoBar offers more than just vapor—it offers a flavorful pause. Whether you're reaching for the Kado Bar Vintage Edition 20000 to unwind or grabbing your favorite flavor during a mental break, KadoBar is all about enhancing those quiet moments.

So next time you’re overwhelmed, remember: sometimes, even something as small as taking a flavorful breath can help you feel a little more grounded.

Visit on - http://kadobarofficial.com 

[getinthefuckingcarkitten]

5 and 9 for Ronnie and Foxy both

ask game (x)

5. What’s one hill your OC will die on (anything from a guiding moral position to a strong opinion about combining mint and chocolate)?

Foxy will die on any hill for any minor reason if she's pissed off enough. She'll start fights over the most inane things- Where she wants to walk on the sidewalk and what chair she wants to sit on and if that one shoe on display is mauve or magenta. She doesn't even care that much, but she does want a fight.

Ronnie is just this.

9. How do they fare in cold or hot climates, and which do they prefer?

Foxy hates the cold severely. Will curse out the sun for being too weak and will curse the wind for being too strong and put some thighs under her skirt (rolled up until it resembles a fabric belt, btw) before whining and whimpering until someone buys her a warm beverage. If Avery offers her one mulled wine, she's immediately ordering another.

Ronnie dislikes both extreme heat and cold, but hates the heat a bit more due to her tendency to dress in baggy, grunge-adjacent clothes. Not that she has any problem in just taking them off, but she does think it kills the vibe a little bit to leave nothing to the imagination.